


Love Is Sharing

by masongirl



Series: The best laid plans [7]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camping, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Hiking, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Moving In Together, Public Display of Affection, Rain, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Content, Summer, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23768656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masongirl/pseuds/masongirl
Summary: Joe, George and their friends go camping in the mountains. It's the perfect time to discuss an important question.
Relationships: George Luz/Joseph Toye
Series: The best laid plans [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682071
Comments: 11
Kudos: 30





	Love Is Sharing

**Author's Note:**

> The infamous camping trip, where George had the meltdown Joe referred to in The Best Laid Plans.

How long should you date before moving in together? Are nine months enough? Joe has never even thought of living with any of his previous partners and the only one he took home before George was his high school girlfriend, but he thinks… maybe, they are ready. He doesn't want to keep alternating between their rooms if he wants to spend quality time together, and it's tiring to see their flatmates' smirks when they stay the night at each other's places. It's none of their damn business when he and George have sex, but some of them are too bored or jealous to give them any privacy. There's one particular asshole at George's house who even comments sometimes. It sucks, because Joe can feel that it makes Georgie hold back on a few things. People underestimate how guarded he is about the stuff that really matters.

They talked about finding a flat in passing, but it came up only as a wistful possibility if things continued to work out. They do work out though. So, Joe's idea is that he'll try to gauge whether George would be interested in setting up a fixed date, and then, perhaps he can start planning it for real. This camping trip seems like a good opportunity to do that. They are going up to a walk-in campground in the closest state park. Since it's not accessible by car, they have to haul everything up on their backs, but that also means it won't be packed with little kids and idiots. The extra workout is a small price to pay for a peaceful week. Well, as peaceful as it can be with Muck, Malarkey, Penkala, Buck, Bill and Babe. Joe doesn't expect to get much rest at night, but as long as there are no squealing children around, he'll be happy.

It's such a lucky coincidence that his and George's friends get along like a house on fire. Joe was worried about it because he knows how much friendship means to George and it would have been difficult to spend enough time with everybody if they had to keep their groups separated. Fortunately, it only took one of Guarnere's shitty house parties and they all declared each other best buddies. Joe's not yet sure what to make of the codependency between Muck and Penkala, but George tells him they don't either, so he just leaves that alone.

It's gloriously sunny when they reach the campground and, save for a group of office-types who seem to have regretted their choice of vacation, the clearing is empty. Joe drops his backpack and the heavy as fuck tent in the grass, then sits on the pile. He's content to just watch his friends groan in relief. When George steps beside him, he stretches an arm out and tugs on his wrist. He squints up at George's flushed face against the sun and the brilliant blue sky.

"Georgie, find us a good spot?"

George bends down for a kiss and almost overbalances from the weight of his bag. He catches himself on Joe's shoulders and laughs when he pulls back. "You got it."

Joe follows him with his eyes. "Watch out for the ant hills!"

George waves him off without looking. "Yeah, yeah."

As he waits for George to choose a place for their tent, he spots two middle-aged guys across the clearing with disapproving expressions on their faces. A third one joins them, and the one with a golden watch on his wrist gestures wildly between Joe and George. There's little doubt to what their problem is, and Joe's having none of that shit here during his vacation. He stands up, lifts his chin and glares, and the men at least have the decency to look embarrassed when they notice. They hurry back to their own camp. Sometimes, Joe's thankful that not everyone's as ready to throw punches as he is.

He sees that George put his backpack down, so he drags his own stuff there, assuming that's where they will set the tent up. However, when he gets there, he realizes that George is laughing into his hand while pretending to watch the scenery, and the dynamite duo is doubled over a few feet away, grasping at each other, beet red from the effort it takes to suppress their giggles. He looks around and his gaze lands on Babe at the edge of the campground, jumping around and swatting at himself like an idiot.

"Man, why do these midges keep coming at me?" He hears him exclaim. Bill, being the helpful guy he is, starts slapping Babe's arms to kill some of the swarm. Babe swears and hits him back, but it just makes Bill chortle.

Joe walks over to George and leans on him with an arm around his shoulders. "What did you do to him?"

George slides his own arm around Joe's waist and grins. "We changed his bug spray to sugar water."

Joe chuckles. He watches as Babe kicks a tree, then makes a beeline for the pipe that makes up their shower. He throws his boots and shirt aside and stands under it barefoot, in his pants. He has a farmer's tan. "Buck, can I borrow your repellent?" He yells at Mr. Bear Grylls who already started on his tent with Malarkey. "Mine is fucking useless." 

That's enough to set Muck off, and he and Penk collapse in a heap of roaring laughter. It's a glimpse of what Joe can expect from them for the rest of the trip.

They spend their days climbing all the nearby peaks and exploring both popular and unknown areas. Buck leads them on hiking trails no one stepped a foot on in years and he still doesn't get lost. The summer sunlight rays down on their skin like transparent fire, but in the shade of the forest, the air is mild and clean. The burning asphalt smell of the city is replaced by pine and duff, and instead of honking cars and rattling trains, they get birdsong and cricket chirping. The views are breathtaking and green as far as the eye can see, nothing like the washed-out grey of the concrete jungle. It's relaxing to be away from the artificial world and only get their phones out late in the evening. Joe doesn't always walk with George, but when he does, he enjoys sharing the silence with him in the dazzling sunshine. He knows they will talk for hours when the stars come out and it's just the two of them in a thin canvas tent.

Malarkey is the second most experienced in the group and he tells them family anecdotes every now and then. Joe's favorite is about how he and his little brother used to make their dad take large rocks home and called them "strategy plans". What screams "map" about a piece of stone? When their group gets bored of the lull, George breaks into song and they are entertained for hours, singing one tune after the other. They tease Muck for taking so many photos he could sign up for a contest, but they all crowd around the camera in the afternoon and go through the new pictures excitedly. The biggest surprise is that Penkala actually knows a lot about wildlife and can read footprints in the mud - but Joe's half-convinced he's making it all up.

Each night, they light a campfire and sit around shooting the shit. On the third day, they "borrow" some folding loungers from the company campers and play a game of freestyle charades, which basically means there are no cards to draw from, they just whisper the answer they made up into the mimer's ear. Joe's proud to say he and George _smash it._ At one point, they get "slam poetry" in about ten seconds. George just winks, rubs his finger over his knuckles, and Joe immediately says "poem" and finds the answer in two steps. Muck just spreads his arms in disbelief. They win by a mile, but the guys disqualify them and declare Buck and Malarkey the winners. The Philly team loses, because Babe is just as rubbish at guessing as Bill is at miming, but George throws a bag of marshmallows at them as consolation.

They roast sausages and other random stuff for dinner. George pretends his chair is needed to keep the food containers off the ground and abandons it in favor of sitting between Joe's legs and snuggling up to him. They barely fit, but Joe sure as hell won't complain. George's exhausted, he can tell, but that takes nothing away from George's high spirits. He reaches for the bag that contained their food and unzips it with a flourish.

"Guys, something magical happened to me on Monday. I went to good old Walmart and my basket brushed some of the shelves by accident." He starts, and Joe rolls his eyes, smiling. This is George's go-to joke whenever he buys something he shouldn't. "I didn't notice that a few things fell in until it was too late to take them back. But maybe you can think of a use for them, Bill."

Bill whoops when he sees the two bottles of vodka George pulls out of the bag, and he screws one open with enthusiasm. As Bill starts pouring into their cups, Joe pokes George in the ribs.

"They just fell in, huh?"

George leans back against Joe's chest and tilts his head towards him. "What's a guy to do?"

Without replying, Joe dips down and kisses him, mouth open and eyes closed. He slides his arms around George's chest. George's lips are very soft tonight, and they press into his kisses pliantly, without force. As much as Joe likes it when passion drives them crazy, he has grown to love taking his time too. He can cherish every sensation this way, the caress of George's exhales on his cheek, the wet sound when their lips move, the warm, familiar taste. George's thumb traces circles on his right knee and presses down above his kneecap whenever their tongues touch. Joe curls his hand further up on George's chest until he can rest it on his throat, just to feel the noises he swallows. He brushes the pad of his thumb over the dip between George's collarbones and George's breath stutters.

It's Bill's voice that pierces their bubble. "Quit it, lovebirds, Heffron's virgin eyes are burning."

"Hey!" Comes Babe's predictably indignant reply. "I've had sex before!"

"Yeah? Who was the lucky lady?" Muck teases somewhere on their left. He sounds like he's speaking through a mouthful of food.

"Your mom!" Babe yells back, to everyone's immense amusement.

George gives Joe one last lingering peck, then shifts back around and joins the raucous laughter. He holds his vodka-filled cup up. "Let's get this party started."

They end up playing drunken _Never have I ever_ by the campfire and it's dirty as hell, of course. Nothing is sacred. It turns out that Muck and Penk don't mind sharing their beds with multiple people at once, Bill joined the mile high club in May and Malarkey kissed a guy last month but didn't like it. They laugh their asses off when Muck jokes about trying to talk like Batman during foreplay and Babe takes a sip. They try to get Buck to admit to any kind of behavior that isn't completely vanilla, but the most they get is "blindfolding", which, compared to Guarnere's kinky track record, is nothing. George has no qualms drinking when Malarkey says roleplay, and Joe has to clear his suddenly dry throat even though he has known for a while that George enjoys that stuff and is very good at it. One of these days they might try it together too.

The game's downside is that all this talk about sex makes Joe horny as fuck. His libido has been at an all-time high recently anyway, stirred up by the summer heat and the spectacular harmony he and George have in the bedroom. He loves how George calms him, and George loves that he can manhandle him any which way without subjecting him to the 50 Shades of Grey bullshit some of his exes pulled. Joe's not stupid, he knows that even if someone wants you to call the shots, it doesn't mean they are asking for whips and humiliation. Some people confuse porn with real life. George just wants to feel safe, he thinks. Thankfully, their needs fit like two halves of a puzzle. They jump each other at every given opportunity.

There's no way they will sleep separately tonight. As aroused as Joe is, he barely manages to wait until their friends call it a night, and as soon as Bill leaves, he goes and zips his and George's sleeping bags together to make a larger one. He drags George away from the last embers of the fire and an absolutely wasted Penkala, and he's on him the second their tent is closed. George goes down like a sack of potatoes and lets his arms flop starfish-style. He groans when Joe kneads his thigh as if it was a loaf of bread.

"Ow, not now." He whines and turns onto his stomach, away. Joe follows him and digs the heels of his palms into George's shoulder blades until they both burst into laughter. They play this game all the time. Once, Joe even rolled George into a blanket and called him a burrito, then bit the knob of his shoulder. He just can't resist groping George and making him giggle. "Joe, all my muscles hurt."

It doesn't surprise him. George's not used to exercise to this extent - he can't force himself to get up early enough for a morning run and it's much harder to gather the willpower after a full day at the uni. After several consecutive days of heavy trekking, his poor body must be on fire.

As if on cue, George crawls into their sleeping bag and collapses on his stomach. "Wake me up in three days." He mumbles.

Joe doesn't let him sleep though, because he's going to combust if they don't do anything about it soon. He shimmies in next to George and leans over him to kiss the back of his neck. He palms George's hip and presses his nose behind his ear, smells campfire smoke. His lips brush the hinge of George's jaw. "Georgie."

George turns and gives him a sleepy look. His nails tickle down along Joe's spine as he pulls Joe into his arms. His right hand slips around to Joe's front and toys with the button of his trousers. "Happy to see me?"

Joe drops his forehead to George's chest, chasing George's elusive touch with his hips. "Have mercy on me please."

"You're in luck, I'm in a generous mood." George undoes the button and the zipper and tugs all the fabric out of the way. "Should I use my Batman voice?"

Joe laughs and lies down on his side, head propped up on the pillow George brought for him. He holds George's playful gaze. "Just give me a blowjob."

George scoots closer and shakes his head. "Not until we're back in the civilised world. You'll have to settle for my hand, baby."

Joe's foolish heart skips a beat at the endearment. It's new and thrilling, and secretly, he's looking forward to the day when George will use it in front of others. He kisses the back of George's fingers. "I like your hand."

"Of course you do, it's a very capable hand." George smirks and grabs him down there, quite tightly, then starts stroking up and down.

Joe swears. "Fuck."

"Quiet." George puts his index finger on Joe's lips, but he yanks it away when Joe tries to nibble on it.

"After we graduate, I'm going to buy us a flat with the thickest fucking walls and I'll never hold back again." Joe rests his hand on George's elbow, tracing the muscles as they flex to keep up the rhythm. Despite the gusts of wind that make their tent shiver, it's warm and cozy in the shelter of their joint sleeping bags.

George laughs under his breath. "Ambitious. Problem is, we're broke."

"Then the neighbours will have to suffer." Joe closes his eyes and grunts into his pillow. He angles his hips forward as George gently twists his hand around the base. "Hm, you're so good at that."

George presses their foreheads together and slides his free hand under Joe's neck to keep him close. He gives Joe small kisses and holds him like that until he shakes and comes. Joe pants through his nose and, despite the mess, he reaches down to entwine his fingers with George's and rides the aftershocks that way. The clean-up will be well worth it.

"So, after graduation…" George whispers into the barely-there space between their mouths, rubbing his wet fingers to Joe's stomach. "Are we going to share a place then?"

"If you're up for it. Or..."

"Or what?"

"I thought, because that's nine months away and there are some good vacancies from September, we could…"

"Move in together in two months?"

Joe swipes his thumb back and forth on George's biceps. "Why wait, right?"

George's face brightens, and he smiles, nodding. "Why wait."

Joe doesn't even realize his chest felt tight until the breath he was holding escapes him in a rush. He didn't know how to ask, but George seems to have understood it anyway and he said yes. He can't believe it, they are going to do this. They are going to move in together!

"Want me to -" Joe reaches for George's sweatpants, but George stops his still sticky hand before he can unfasten the string.

"I'm good."

Joe gives him a knowing look. "You're not a fan of the outdoors."

George shrugs. "I'm just too lazy to clean up here."

There's something about being outside, almost in the open and surrounded by nature, that revs Joe's engine. If it was up to him, he'd take George out with a blanket and make love to him under the stars. "I could blow you."

The noise George makes isn't exactly enthusiastic. "Joe, we haven't taken a proper shower in days."

"I don't care."

"You're a pig." George informs him, but he leans in for a kiss nevertheless, and they spend a long, quiet moment just making out and celebrating. The night is a veil that wraps around them with the smell of pine and the fading warmth in the earth. It's a perfect fragment of time.

There's nothing perfect about their morning two days later, when the campsite is hit by torrential rain. By the time they pack up, everything is soaked through and dripping wet. In his hurry to keep up as they begin their hike back to the cars, George slips and bruises himself horribly on a protruding rock that Penkala stumbled in too. Joe has a sense of foreboding as he watches George's mood plummet by every inch the puddles scattered on the path grow. At one point, they have to cross a creek that seems to have tripled in size since their first day, and George wastes a minute staring at it in horror before Joe drags him across by the hand. They are on a steep, slippery slope when their friends take notice.

"Speed up, George! We don't have all day." Buck calls back playfully, stable and confident as the lead as always. He must have been a fucking eagle scout.

His comment is justified though. George is slower than a glacier and is starting to fall behind. Joe has a suspicion about the reason, but he's pretty sure bringing it out to the light would just make things worse. Instead, he prepares himself to remain patient and stays back to help. He holds his hand out when George reaches him, but George just slaps it away and glares. Joe blinks, taken aback. He has _never_ seen that look in George's eyes before.

"Hey, Luz, any good songs we could sing?" Muck pipes up a good fifteen yards ahead of them, ankle-deep in a large puddle of murky water.

George's face whitens and the words he spits out are venomous and cutting. "It's not my goddamn duty to entertain your boring ass."

"Jesus Christ, what's wrong with him?" Bill turns to stare at them.

It draws Babe's attention too. "Are you all ri-"

"Leave me alone!" George shuts him up with a yell. "Can't you all just leave me alone?! Just go the fuck ahead!" He throws a tiny rock in their direction. "I'll get down on my own. If I can."

"George." Joe says as gently as he can.

"Come on, man, this isn't like you." Penkala adds, but it's only oil to the fire. Something snaps in George and he spirals into a meltdown at breakneck speed.

"Because everyone thinks I'm always happy-go-lucky Luz, huh? I can't have emotions, I can't have bad days, it's all about being the joke of the fucking group. You whistle and I dance like a circus monkey, is that how it goes? Am I just a jester who has no right to be upset? Fuck you!"

_"George."_

"No."

"Stop it!"

"I will not!"

The words echo in the forest, and Joe gets angry too. He takes two determined steps to catch George and grabs both of his wrists, pulling him to a stop and squeezing. He expects a physical fight or something equally hurtful because he hasn't seen anything like this before in his sweet, lovely boyfriend and he prepares for the worst. But George just sags into Joe's chest, buries his face in his own hands and either cries or struggles not to. Joe purses his lips and jerks his head at their friends to go ahead. They will catch up later, when whatever this is has been sorted out.

Just as fast as it came, his anger is gone. He strokes the back of George's head, knows he's sopping wet despite the raincoat, and he's starting to fear they will all catch a cold, but there's nothing to do about it now.

"I don't think like that. None of us do." He doesn't say no one because that, unfortunately, wouldn't be true either. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"I can't stand the rain, Joe. I can't take it anymore." George takes sharp, rapid breaths and points a shaky finger in the vague direction of the puddle ahead. It's enough to confirm Joe's suspicions. "Have you seen the mudslides?"

There aren't any mudslides, but Joe has to give it to George that some suddenly appearing creeks do look like that. He presses a firm kiss to George's temple. "Just two more miles and we can dry up in the car. You can change into my gym clothes."

George's back hitches. "The ones you left in the car? They reek."

They shouldn't be too bad since Joe intended to run in them on Monday, but he doesn't say this out loud. "You'll just smell like me."

"One week in a tent and you've become a caveman." George sniffs, then pushes himself away and gives the path a grim look. He's dead pale, but looks less upset now. Joe's relieved to see no tears in his eyes. "Let's go then."

There's a small gas station near the parking lot and the boys double-time it there as soon as the backpacks and the equipment are stored away in one of the two cars' trunks. George stays to change into Joe's sweatpants, gym hoodie and socks in the backseat of Joe's car, but he doesn't come after them to the warm shop café. He must be embarrassed by his outburst. When it's obvious that he won't leave the car, Joe stands up from Bill's and Babe's table and grabs what he bought at the shop.

"Is he okay?" Babe asks, then takes a large bite of his hot dog. Joe is tempted to laugh at Babe's ravenous munching, but he just nods.

He gets a curious look from Bill. "What got into him up there?"

Although it's not a secret, Joe doesn't think George shared it with anyone else. He debates his options, but decides they should at least know of the fact, if not the reason behind it, if they plan to go on more trips together. Anything can happen. "He's scared of floods."

He can see from the corner of his eye that Babe frowns. "Really?"

"It's a phobia." Joe explains, trying to get it across that it's not something to laugh at. "Muddy water makes him dead scared."

"Shit." Bill shakes his head. It must have dawned on him that they walked through miles of murky puddles.

Babe makes a face. "I hope it didn't ruin the trip for him."

"Me too." Joe says and goes back to the car.

His shirt is mostly intact, so he leaves that on, but changes into a reasonably dry pair of jeans he finds at the bottom of his backpack. When he slides in, George has a hand covering his eyes and he's wrapped in a blanket. Droplets of water drip on his shoulders from the tips of his wet hair. Joe touches his cheek, and George lets his hand fall to give him a rueful look.

"I’m sorry. That was embarrassing." He mutters.

"It's all right. You know how often I lose my temper." Joe nudges him with an elbow and gets a faint smile. Honestly, Joe's friends have seen much worse than a little shouting. He rummages around in his shopping bag and presses the bottle he pulls out to George's hand.

"Oh." George blinks at him in surprise, then his smile slowly widens. He takes the flavoured water. "Thank you."

Joe breaks into a Snickers bar, then holds it out so that George can take the second bite, which he does. They finish it together, and Joe slides an arm around George’s shoulders when all the chocolate is gone. A little sweetness goes a long way towards improving anyone's mood. He rubs George's upper arm. "Better now?"

George nods and slides down to fit into the embrace more fully. He brushes his palm over Joe's chest down to his stomach until he's hugging Joe's waist.

"I love you so much." He whispers.

It's not the first time he has said it, but he does it so rarely that Joe has a vivid memory of every single time. Everyone thinks he’s the tough one in their relationship, and he does have a formidable appearance, but he knows that George is stronger in some ways, and they can match each other by how terrible they are at putting their emotions into words. He's sure that he'll never forget this camping trip either.

"I love you too." Joe leans his cheek on the top of George's head and listens to his breathing until he's sure George fell asleep.

Through the window, he can see the boys leave the café, shoving at each other and laughing, and Bill is strutting ahead, lecturing his nonexistent audience on something. Joe fishes his keys out of his pocket. He has never let anyone else drive his car before, but he couldn't care less about it at the moment. Distantly, he's aware that this is the first sign that his relationship might be more serious than he would have thought, but he pushes the idea aside. He just wants George to get some sleep. Bill will take them home.

_~End~_

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is love :)


End file.
